The English sailors landed and upon advancing into the interior, met only with a desert country, and sandy hills, without a single tree. They found no game, but they saw a few guanacos too far off for a shot; they were, however, able to catch some large hares, which were not difficult to secure. The seals and sea birds, however, furnished food for an entire fleet.

Badly situated and badly sheltered, Port Desire offered the further inconvenience that only brackish water could be procured there. Not a trace of inhabitants was to be found! A long stay in this place being useless and dangerous, Byron started in search of Pepys Island on the 25th.

The position of this island was most uncertain. Halley placed it 80 degrees east of the continent. Cowley, the only person who asserted that he had seen it, declared it was about 47 degrees latitude, S., but did not fix its longitude. Here then was an interesting problem to solve.

After having explored to the N., to the S., and to the E., Byron, satisfied that this island was imaginary, set sail for the Sebaldines, in haste to reach the first possible port where he could obtain food and water, of which he had pressing need. A storm overtook him, during which the waves were so terrific, that Byron declared he had never seen them equalled, even when he doubled Cape Horn with Admiral Anson. This danger surmounted, he recognized Cape Virgin, which forms the northern entrance to the Straits of Magellan.

As soon as the vessels neared the shore, the sailors distinguished a crowd of men on horseback, who set up a white tent, and signed to them to land. Curious to see these Patagonians, about whom preceding navigators had so disagreed, Byron landed with a strong detachment of armed soldiers.

He found nearly 500 men, most of them on horseback, of gigantic stature, and looking like monsters in human shape. Their bodies were painted in the most hideous manner, their faces traced with various coloured lines, their eyes encircled with blue, black, or red, so that they had the appearance of wearing enormous spectacles. Almost all were naked, with the exception of a skin thrown over their shoulders—the wool inside, and a few of them wore boots. Truly, a singular costume! primitive and not expensive!



With them were numbers of dogs and of very small horses, excessively ugly, but not the less extremely swift.

The women rode on horseback like the men without stirrups, and all galloped on the shore, although it was covered with immense stones and very slippery.

The interview was friendly. Byron distributed numbers of toys, ribbons, glass trinkets, and tobacco, to the crowd of giants.

As soon as he had brought the Dauphin to the wind, Byron entered the Straits of Magellan with the tide. It was not his intention to cross it, but merely to find a safe and commodious harbour, where he might secure wood and water before starting in his search for the Falkland Islands.

On leaving the second outlet, he met with St. Elizabeth, St. Bartholomew, and St. George Islands, and Sandy Point. Near the last he found a delicious country, springs, woods, fields covered with flowers, which shed an exquisite perfume in the air. The country was swarming with hundreds of birds, of which one species received the name of the "Painted Goose," from the exceeding brilliancy of its plumage. But nowhere could a spot be found where the ship's boat could approach without extreme danger. The water was shallow everywhere, and the breakers were heavy. Fish of many kinds—more especially mullets,—geese, snipe, teal, and other birds of excellent flavour, were caught and killed by the crew.

Byron was obliged to continue his voyage to Port Famine, which he reached on the 27th of December.

"We were sheltered from all winds," he says, "with the exception of the south-east, which rarely blows, and no damage could accrue to vessels which might be driven on shore in the bay, because of the profound calm that prevails. Wood enough floated near the shore to stock a thousand vessels, so we had no need to go and cut it in the forest.

"The River Sedger ran at the bottom of the bay, the water of which is excellent. Its banks are planted with large and beautiful trees, excellent for masts; parrots, and birds of brilliant plumage thronged the branches." Abundance reigned in Famine Port during Byron's stay.

As soon as his crew were completely recovered from their fatigue and the ships well provisioned, the Commodore, on the 5th of January, 1765, resumed his search for the Falkland Islands. Seven days later, he discovered a land in which he fancied he recognized the Islands of Sebald de Wert, but upon nearing them he found that what he had taken for three islands, was, in reality, but one, which extended far south. He had no remaining doubt that he had found the group marked upon the charts of the time as New Ireland, 51 degrees south latitude, and 63 degrees, 32 minutes west longitude.

First of all, Byron steered clear of them, fearing to be thrown upon a coast with which he was unacquainted, and after this summary bearing, a detachment was selected to skirt the coast as closely as possible, and look for a safe and commodious harbour—which was soon met with. It received the name of Port Egmont, in honour of Earl Egmont, First Lord of the Admiralty.

"I did not expect," says Byron, "that it would be possible to find so good a harbour. The depth was excellent, the supply of water easy; all the ships of England might be anchored there in shelter from winds.

"Geese, ducks, and teal abounded to such an extent, that the sailors were tired of eating them. Want of wood was general, with the exception of some trunks of trees which floated by the shore, and which were apparently brought here from the Strait of Magellan.

"The wild sorel and celery, both excellent anti-scorbutics, were to be found in abundance. Sea-calves and seals, as well as penguins, were so numerous that it was impossible to walk upon the strand without seeing them rush away in herds. Animals resembling wolves, but more like foxes in shape, with the exception of their height and tails, several times attacked the sailors, who had great difficulty in defending themselves. It would be no easy task to guess how they came here, distant as the country is from any other continent,—by at least a hundred leagues; or to imagine where they found shelter, in a country barren of vegetation, producing only rushes, sword-grass, and not a single tree."

The account of this portion of Byron's voyage, in Didot's biography, is a tissue of errors.

"The flotilla," says M. Alfred de Lacaze, "became entangled in the Straits of Magellan, and was forced to put into a bay near Port Famine, which was named Port Egmont." A singular mistake, which proves how lightly the articles of this important collection were sometimes written.

Byron took possession of Port Egmont and the adjacent isles, called Falkland, in the name of the King of England. Cowley had named them Pepys Islands, but in all probability the first discoverer was Captain Davis in 1592. Two years later Sir Richard Hawkins found land which was thought to be the same, and named it Virginia, in honour of his queen Elizabeth. Lastly, vessels from St. Malo visited this group, and no doubt it was owing to this fact that Frezier called them the Malouines Islands.



After having named a number of rocks, islets, and capes, Byron left Port Egmont on the 27th of January, and set sail for Port Desire, which he reached nine days later. There he found the Florida—a transport vessel, which had brought from England the provisions and necessary appliances for his long voyage.

But this anchorage was too dangerous. The Florida and the Tamar were in too bad a condition to be equal to the long operation of transhipment. Byron therefore sent one of his petty officers, who had a thorough knowledge of the Strait of Magellan, on board the Florida, and with his two consorts set sail for Port Famine. He met with a French ship so many times in the straits, that it appeared as if she were bent upon the same course as himself. Upon returning to England, he ascertained that she was the Aigle, Captain M. de Bougainville, who was coasting Patagonia in search of the wood needed by the French colony in the Falkland Islands.

During the various excursions in the straits, the English expedition received several visits from the inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego.

"I have never seen such wretched beings," says Byron; "they were entirely naked, with the exception of a skin thrown across the shoulders. They offered me the bows and arrows with which they were armed in exchange for beads, necklaces, and other trifles. Their arrows, which were two feet long, were made of cane, and pointed with greenish stone; the bows were three feet long and were furnished with catgut for strings.

"Their nourishment consisted of certain fruits, mussels, and the remains of putrid fish thrown upon the beach during the storms. Pigs only could have relished their food. It consisted of large pieces of whale, already putrified, the odour of which impregnated the air for some distance. One of them tore the carrion in pieces with his teeth, and handed the bits to his companions, who devoured them with the voracity of wild beasts.

"Several of these miserable beings decided to come on board. Wishing to give them a pleasant reception, one of my petty officers played the violin and the sailors danced. This delighted them. Anxious to show their appreciation, one of their number hastened to his pirogue (small boat) and returned with a little bag of wolf-skin, containing a red ointment, with which he rubbed the face of the violinist. He was anxious to pay me the same attention, but I drew back. He then tried every means of overcoming my delicacy, and I had great difficulty in avoiding the mark of esteem he was so anxious to give me."



It will not be out of place here to record the opinion held by Byron, an experienced seaman, upon the advantages and disadvantages offered to the passage through the Straits of Magellan. He does not agree with the majority of navigators who have visited these latitudes. He says,—

"Our account of the difficulties and dangers we encountered may lead to the idea that it is not prudent to attempt this passage, and that ships leaving Europe for the southern seas, should prefer to double Cape Horn. I am by no means of this opinion, although I have twice doubled Cape Horn. There is one season in the year when not only one ship, but an entire fleet, might safely cross the straits, and to profit by this season one should enter them in the month of December. One inestimable advantage which should weigh with all navigators is that celery, scurvy-grass, fruits, and other anti-scorbutic vegetables abound. Such obstacles as we encountered, and which delayed us from the 17th of February till the 8th of April in the straits, were mainly due to the equinoctial season, a season which is invariably stormy, and which, more than once, tried our patience."

Until the 26th of April, the day upon which they found Mas-a-Fuero, belonging to the Juan Fernandez group, Byron had sailed to the N.W. He hastened to disembark several sailors, who after obtaining water and wood, chased wild goats, which they found better flavoured than venison in England.

During their stay in this port, a singular fact occurred. A violent surf broke over the shore, and prevented the shore-boats from reaching the strand. Although he was provided with a life-belt, one of the sailors, who could not swim, refused to jump into the sea to reach the boat. Threatened with being left alone on the island, he still persistently refused to venture, when one of his companions cleverly encircled his waist with a cord, in which he had made a running knot, and one end of which was made fast to the boat. When he reached the vessel, Hawksworth's narrative relates, that the unfortunate fellow had swallowed so much water that he appeared lifeless. He was accordingly hung up by the heels, whereupon he soon regained his senses, and the next day was completely restored. But in spite of this truly wonderful recovery, we can hardly venture to recommend this course of treatment to humane rescue societies.

Leaving Mas-a-Fuero, Byron changed his route, with the intention of seeking Davis Land, now known as Easter Island, which was placed by geographers in 27 degrees 30 minutes, a hundred leagues westward of the American coast. Eight days were devoted to this search.

Having found nothing after this cruise, which he was unable to prolong, Byron, following his intention of visiting the Solomon group, steered for the north-west. Upon the 22nd of May scurvy broke out on board the vessels, and quickly made alarming havoc.

Fortunately land was perceived from the look-out on the 7th of June in 140 degrees 58 minutes west longitude.

Next day, the fleet neared two islands, which presented an attractive appearance.

Large bushy trees, shrubs and groves were seen, and a number of natives who hastened to the shore and lighted fires.

Byron sent a boat in search of anchorage. It returned without having found the requisite depth at a cable's length from shore.

The unfortunate victims of scurvy who had crawled on to the forecastle, cast looks of sorrowful longing at the fertile islands, which held the remedy for their sufferings and which Nature placed beyond their reach!

The narrative says,—

"They saw the cocoa-trees in abundance, laden with fruit, the milk of which is probably the most powerful anti-scorbutic in the world. They had reason for supposing that limes, bananas, and other tropical fruits abounded, and to add to their torments they saw the shells of tortoises floating on the shore."

All these delights, which would have restored them to vigour, were no more attainable than if they had been separated by half the globe, but the sight of them increased the misery of their privations.

Byron was anxious to curtail the tantalizing misery of his unfortunate crew, and giving the name of Disappointment Islands to the group, he set sail once more on the 8th of June.

The very next day he found a new land, long, flat, covered with cocoa-nut trees. In its midst was a lake with a little islet. This feature alone was indicative of the madreporic formation of the soil, simple deposit, which was not yet, but which in time would become, an island. The boat sent to sound met in every direction with a coast as steep as a wall.

Meanwhile the natives made hostile demonstrations. Two men entered the boat. One stole a sailor's waistcoat, another put out his hand for the quarter-master's cocked hat, but not knowing how to deal with it, pulled it towards him, instead of lifting it up, which gave the quarter-master an opportunity of interfering with his intention. Two large pirogues, each manned by thirty paddlers, showed an intention of attacking the vessels, but the latter immediately chased them. Just as they were running ashore a struggle ensued, and the English, all but overwhelmed by numbers, were forced to use their arms. Three or four natives were killed.

Next day, the sailors and such of the sick as could leave their hammocks landed.

The natives, intimidated by the lesson they had received in the evening, remained in concealment, whilst the English picked cocoa-nuts, and gathered anti-scorbutic plants. These timely refreshments were so useful that in a few days there was not a sick man on board.

Parrots, rarely beautiful, and tame doves, and several kinds of unknown birds composed the fauna of the island, which received the name of King George—that which was discovered afterwards was called Prince of Wales' Island. All these lands belonged to the Pomotou group, which is also known as the Low Islands, a very suitable name for this archipelago.

On the 21st again a new chain of islands surrounded by breakers was sighted. Byron did not attempt a thorough investigation of these, as to do so he would have incurred risks out of proportion to the benefit to be gained. He called them the Dangerous Islands.

Six days later, Duke of York Island was discovered. The English found no inhabitants, but carried off two hundred cocoa-nuts, which appeared to them of inestimable value.

A little farther, in latitude 1 degree 18 minutes south, longitude 173 degrees 46 minutes west, a desert island received the name of Byron; it was situated eastward of the Gilbert group.

The heat was overwhelming, and the sailors, weakened, by their long voyage and want of proper food, in addition to the putrid water they had been forced to drink, were almost all attacked by dysentery.

At length, on the 28th of July, Byron joyfully recognized Saypan and Tinian Islands, which form part of the Marianne or Ladrone Islands, and he prepared to anchor in the very spot where Lord Anson had cast anchor with the Centurion. Tents were immediately prepared for the sufferers from scurvy. Almost all the sailors had been attacked by this terrible disease, many even had been at the point of death. The captain undertook to explore the dense wood which extended to the very edge of the shore, in search of the lovely country so enthusiastically described in the account written by Lord Anson's chaplain. How far were these enchanting descriptions from the truth! Impenetrable forests met him on every side, overgrown plants, briars, and tangled shrubs, at every step caught and tore his clothes. At the same time the explorers were attacked and stung by clouds of mosquitoes. Game was scarce and wild, the water detestable, the roadstead was never more dangerous than at this season.

The halt was made, therefore, under unfortunate auspices. Still, in the end limes, bitter oranges, cocoa-nuts, bread-fruits, guavas, and others were found. But although these productions were beneficial to the invalids, who were shortly restored to vigour, the malarious atmosphere caused such violent fever that two sailors succumbed to it. In addition, the rain fell unceasingly and the heat was overpowering. Byron says that he never experienced such terrific heat, even in his visits to the coast of Guinea, the East Indies, or St. Thomas Island, which is immediately below the equator.

Fowls and wild pigs which weighed about 2 cwt. each, were easily procurable, but had to be eaten immediately, as in less than a hour decomposition took place. Lastly, the fish caught upon this shore was so unwholesome, that even those who ate it in moderation became dangerously ill, and risked their lives.

After a stay of nine weeks, the two ships, amply provisioned, left the port of Tinian. Byron continued his route to the north, after having passed Anatacan Island, already discovered by Anson. He hoped to meet the N.E. monsoon before reaching the Bashees, which form the extreme north of the Philippines. Upon the 22nd he perceived Grafton Island, the most northerly of this group, and upon the 3rd of November he arrived at Timoan, which had been mentioned by Dampier as a favourable place for procuring provisions. The natives, however, who are of Malay descent, refused the offer of hatchets, knives, and iron instruments in exchange for fowls—they demanded rupees. Finally they accepted some handkerchiefs in payment of a dozen fowls, a goat and its kid. Fortunately fish was abundant, as it would have been impossible to procure fresh victuals.

Byron set sail once more on the 7th November, passed Poulo Condor at a distance, stopped at Poulo Taya, where he encountered a vessel bearing Dutch colours, but which was manned entirely by Malays. Reaching Sumatra, he explored the coast and cast anchor at Batavia, the principal seat of Dutch power in the East Indies, on the 20th November.

At this time there were more than one hundred ships, large and small, in this roadstead, so flourishing was the trade of the East India Company at this epoch. The town was at the height of its prosperity. Its large and open thoroughfares, its admirable canals, bordered by pine-trees, its regular buildings, singularly recalled the cities of the Netherlands.

Portuguese, Chinese, English, Dutch, Persians, Moors, and Malays, mixed in the streets, and transacted business. Fetes, receptions, gaieties of every kind impressed new comers with a high idea of the prosperity of the town, and contributed to make their stay a pleasant one. The sole drawback, and it was a serious one to crews after so long a voyage, was the unhealthiness of the locality, where endemic fevers abound. Byron being aware of this, hurried the embarkation of his provisions, and set sail after an interval of twelve days.

Short as their stay had been, it had been too long. The fleet had scarcely reached the strait of the sound, before a malignant fever broke out among the crew, disabling half their number, and ending in the death of three sailors.

After forty-eight days' navigation, Byron perceived the coast of Africa, and cast anchor three days later in Table Bay.

Cape Town furnished all that he could require. Provisions, water, medicines, were all shipped with a rapidity which sufficiently indicated their anxiety to return, and once more the prow of the vessel was directed homewards.

Two incidents occurred on the passage across the Atlantic, thus described by Byron.

"Off St. Helena, in fine weather, and with a favourable wind, the vessel, then at a considerable distance from land, received a shock which was as severe as if she had struck on a rock. Its violence so alarmed us that we all ran to the bridge. Our fears were dissipated when we saw the sea tinged with blood to a great distance. We concluded that we had come in contact with a whale or a grampus, and that our ship had apparently received no damage, which was true."

A few days later, however, the Tamar was found to be in such a dilapidated state, such grave injuries were discovered in her rudder, that it was necessary to invent something to replace it, and to enable her to reach the Antilles, it being too great a risk to allow her to continue her voyage.

Upon the 9th of May, 1766, the Dauphin anchored in the Downs, after a voyage round the world which had lasted for twenty-three months.

This was the most fortunate of all the circumnavigation voyages undertaken by the English. Up to this date, no purely scientific voyage had been attempted. If it was less fruitful of results than had been anticipated, the fault lay not so much with the captain as with the Lords of the Admiralty. They were not sufficiently accurate in their instructions, and had not taken the trouble (as was done in later voyages) of sending special professors of the various branches of science with the expedition.

Full justice, however, was paid to Byron. The title of Admiral was conferred on him, and an important command in the East Indies was entrusted to him. But we have no interest in the latter part of his life, which ended in 1786, and to that, therefore, we need not allude.



II.

Wallis and Carteret—Preparations for the Expedition—Difficult navigation of the Strait of Magellan—Separation of the Dauphin and the Swallow—Whitsunday Island—Queen Charlotte's Island—Cumberland, Henry Islands, &c.—Tahiti—Howe, Boscawen, and Keppel Islands—Wallis Island—Batavia—The Cape—The Downs—Discovery of Pitcairn, Osnaburgh, and Gloucester Islands by Carteret—Santa Cruz Archipelago—Solomon Islands—St. George's canal and New Ireland, Portland and Admiralty Islands—Batavia and Macassar—Meeting with Bougainville in the Atlantic.

The impulse once given, England inaugurated the series of scientific expeditions which were to prove so fruitful of results, and to raise her naval reputation to such a height.

Admirable indeed is the training acquired in these voyages round the world. In them the crew, the officers, and sailors, are constantly brought face to face with unforeseen difficulties and dangers, which call forth the best qualities of the sailor, the soldier, and the man!

If France succumbed to the naval superiority of Great Britain during the revolutionary and imperial wars, was it not fully as much owing to this stern training of the British seaman, as to the internal dissensions which deprived France of the services of the greater part of her naval staff?

Be this as it may, the English Admiralty, shortly after Byron's return, organized a new expedition. Their preparations appear to have been far too hasty. The Dauphin only anchored in the Downs at the beginning of May, and six weeks later, on the 19th of June, Captain Samuel Wallis received the command.

This officer, after attaining the highest rank in the military marine service, had been entrusted with an important command in Canada, and had assisted in the capture of Louisburgh. We cannot tell what qualities commended him to the Admiralty in preference to his companions in arms, but in any case, the noble lords had no reason to regret their decision. Wallis hastened the needful preparations on board the Dauphin, and on the 21st of August (less than a month after receiving his commission), he joined the sloop Swallow and the Prince Frederick in Plymouth Harbour.

The latter was in charge of Lieutenant Brine, the former was commanded by Philip Carteret. Both were most distinguished officers who had just returned from a voyage round the world with Commodore Byron, and whose reputation was destined to be increased by their second voyage.

The Swallow, unfortunately, appears to have been quite unfit for the service demanded of her. Having already been thirty years in service, the sheathing was very much worn, and her keel was not studded with nails, which might have served instead of sheathing to protect her from parasites. Again the provisions and marketable commodities were so unequally divided, that the Swallow received much less than the Dauphin. Carteret begged in vain for a rope yarn, a forge, and various things which his experience told him would be indispensable.

This rebuff confirmed Carteret in his notion that he should not get further than the Falkland Isles, but none the less he took every precaution which his experience dictated to him.

As soon as the equipment was complete, on the 22nd of April 1766, the vessels set sail. It did not take Wallis long to find out that the Swallow was a bad sailer, and that he might anticipate much trouble during his voyage. However, no accident happened during the voyage to Madeira, where the vessels put in to revictual.

Upon leaving the port, the commander supplied Carteret with a copy of his instructions, and selected Port Famine, in the Strait of Magellan, as a rendezvous, in case of separation.

Their stay at Port Praya, in the Island of Santiago, was shortened on account of the ravages committed there by the small-pox, and Wallis would not even allow his crew to land. Shortly after leaving the Equator, the Prince Frederick gave signs of distress, and it was necessary to send the carpenter on board to stop up a leak on the larboard side. This vessel, which was provided with inferior provisions, counted already a number of sick among her crew.

Towards eight o'clock in the evening of the 19th of November, the crews perceived in the N.E. a meteor of extraordinary appearance, moving in a straight line towards the S.W. with marvellous rapidity. It was visible for almost a minute, and left behind a trail of light, so bright that the deck was illuminated as if it were mid-day.

On the 8th of December, the coast of Patagonia was at last visible. Wallis skirted it until he reached Cape Virgin, where he landed with the armed detachments of the Swallow and Prince Frederick. A crowd of natives awaited them upon the shore, and received with apparent satisfaction the knives, scissors, and other trifles which it was usual to distribute upon such occasions, but they would not part with guanacos, ostriches, or any other game which were seen in their possession for any consideration. Wallis says,—

"We took the measure of the largest of them, one was six feet six inches in height, several were five feet five inches, but the average was five foot six, or six feet."

It must be remembered that these were English feet, which are only 305 millemetres.

If these natives were not quite so tall as the giants mentioned by previous navigators, they were very little less striking.

"Each one," continues the narrative, "carried a strange kind of weapon, it consisted of two round stones, covered with copper, each of which weighed about a pound, and they were attached at both ends to a cord about eight feet long. They used them like slings, holding one of the stones in the hand, and whirling the other round the head until it attained sufficient velocity, when they threw it towards the object they wished to strike. They managed this weapon so adroitly that they could strike a butt no larger than a shilling with both stones, at a distance of fifteen roods. They did not, however, employ it in chasing guanacos or ostriches."

Wallis conducted eight of these Patagonians on board. They did not appear surprised, as one would have expected, at the number of new and extraordinary things they met with. They advanced, retired, made a thousand grimaces before the mirrors, shouted with laughter, and conversed animatedly among themselves. Their attention was attracted by the pigs for a moment, but they were immensely amused with the guinea fowls and turkeys. It was difficulty to persuade them to leave the vessel. At last they returned to the shore, singing and making signs of delight to their countrymen who awaited them on the bank.



On the 17th of December, Wallis signalled the Swallow to head the squadron for the passage of the Straits of Magellan.

At Port Famine the commander had two tents erected on shore for the sick, the wood-cutters, and the sailors. Fish in sufficient quantities for each day's meal, abundance of celery, and acid fruits similar to cranberries and barberries, were to be found in this harbour, and in the course of about a fortnight these remedies completely restored the numerous sufferers from scurvy. The vessels were repaired and partially calked, the sails were mended, the rigging, which had been a good deal strained, was overhauled and repaired, and all was soon ready for sea again.

But Wallis first ordered a large quantity of wood to be cut and conveyed on board the Prince Frederick, for transport to the Falkland Isles, where it is not obtainable. At the same time he had hundreds of young trees carefully dug up, and the roots covered in their native soil to facilitate their transplantation in Port Egmont, that in taking root—as there was reason to hope they would—they might supply the barren archipelago with this precious commodity.

Lastly, the provisions were divided between the Dauphin and the Swallow. The former taking sufficient for a year, the latter for ten months.

We will not enlarge upon the different incidents which befell the two ships in the Straits of Magellan, such as sudden gales, tempests and snowstorms, irregular and rapid currents, heavy seas and fogs, which more than once brought the vessels within an inch of destruction. The Swallow especially, was in such a dilapidated condition, that Carteret besought Wallis to consider his vessel no longer of any use in the expedition, and to tell him what course should best be pursued for the public good.

Wallis replied, "The orders of the Admiralty are concise, and you must conform to them, and accompany the Dauphin as long as possible. I am aware that the Swallow is a bad sailer; I will accommodate myself to her speed, and follow her movements, for it is most important that in case of accident to one of the ships, the other should be within reach, to give all the assistance in her power."

Carteret had nothing to urge in reply, but he augured badly for the result of the expedition.

As the ships approached the opening of the straits on the Pacific side, the weather became abominable. A thick fog, falls of snow and rain, currents which sent the vessels on to the breakers, a chopping sea, contributed to detain the navigators in the straits until the 10th of April. On that day, the Dauphin and Swallow were separated off Cape Pilar, and could not find each other, Wallis not having fixed a rendezvous in case of separation.

Before we follow Wallis on his voyage across the Pacific, we will give a short account of the wretched natives of Tierra del Fuego, and of the general appearance of their country. These wretches, who were as miserable and debased as possible, subsisted upon the raw flesh of seals and penguins.

"One of our men," says Wallis, "who fished with a line, bestowed a live fish, which he had just caught, and which was about the size of a herring, upon one of these Americans. He took it with the eagerness of a dog snatching a bone. He commenced operations by killing the fish with a bite near the gills, and proceeded to devour it, beginning at the head and finishing at the tail, without rejecting the bones, fins, scales, or entrails. In fact, these people swallowed everything that was offered to them, cooked or uncooked, fresh or salt, but they refused all drink but water. Their sole covering was a miserable seal-skin reaching to the knees. Their weapons were javelins tipped with a fish-bone. They all suffered from bad eyes, which the English attributed to their custom of living in smoke to protect themselves from mosquitos. Lastly, they emitted a most offensive smell, only to be likened to that of foxes, which doubtless arose from their excessively filthy habits."

Although certainly not inviting, this picture is graphic, as all navigators testify. It would appear that progress is not possible to these savages, so nearly allied to brutes. Civilization is a dead letter to them, and they still vegetate like their forefathers, with no wish to improve, and with no ambition to attain a more comfortable existence. Wallis continues,—

"Thus we quitted this savage and uninhabitable region, where for four months we had been in constant danger of shipwreck, where in the height of summer the weather is foggy, cold, and stormy, where almost all the valleys are without verdure, and the mountains without woods, in short where the land which one can see rather resembles the ruins of a world, than the abode of living creatures."

Wallis was scarcely free of the strait, when he set sail westward in spite of dense fogs, and with high wind and such a heavy sea, that for weeks together there was not a dry corner in the ship.

The constant exposure to damp engendered cold and severe fevers, to which scurvy shortly succeeded. Upon reaching 32 degrees south latitude, and 100 degrees west longitude, the navigator steered due north.

Upon the 6th of June, two islands were discovered amidst general rejoicings.

The ships' boats, well armed and equipped, reached the shore under command of Lieutenant Furneaux. A quantity of cocoa-nuts and anti-scorbutic plants were obtained, but although the English found huts and sheds, they did not meet with a single inhabitant. This island was discovered on the eve of Whitsunday and hence received the name Whitsunday.

It is situated in 19 degrees 26 minutes south latitude, and 137 degrees 56' minutes west longitude. Like the following islands, it belongs to the Pomotou group.

Next day, the English endeavoured to make overtures to the inhabitants of another island, but the natives appeared so ill-disposed and the coast was so steep, that it was impossible to land. After tacking about all night, Wallis despatched the boats, with orders not to use violence to the inhabitants if they could avoid it, or unless absolutely obliged.

As Lieutenant Furneaux approached the land, he was astonished by the sight of two large pirogues with double masts, in which the natives were on the eve of embarking.

As soon as they had done so, the English landed, and searched the island thoroughly. They discovered several pits full of good water. The soil was firm, sandy, covered with trees, more especially cocoanut-trees, palm-trees, and sprinkled with anti-scorbutic plants. The narrative says,—

"The natives of this island were of moderate stature. Their skin was brown, and they had long black hair, straggling over the shoulders. The men were finely formed, and the women were beautiful. Some coarse material formed their garment, which was tied round the waist, and appeared to be intended to be raised round the shoulders. In the afternoon, Wallis sent the lieutenant to procure water and to take possession of the island in the name of King George III. It was called Queen Charlotte's Island, in honour of the English queen."

After reconnoitring personally, Wallis determined to remain in this region for a week, in order to profit by the facilities it afforded for provisioning.

In their walks the English met with working implements made of shells, and sharpened stones shaped like axes, scissors, and awls. They also noticed boats in course of construction, made of boards joined together. But they were most of all astonished at meeting with tombs upon which the dead bodies were exposed under a sort of awning, and where they putrified in the open air.

When they quitted the island, they left hatchets, nails, bottles, and other things as reparation for any damage they might have committed.

The 17th century teamed with philanthropic aspirations! And from the accounts of all navigators one is led to believe that the theory so much advocated was put into practice upon most occasions. Humanity had made great strides. Difference of colour no longer presented an insuperable barrier to a man's being treated as a brother, and the convention which at the close of the century ordered the freedom of the black, set a seal to the convictions of numbers.

The Dauphin discovered new land, the same day that she left Queen Charlotte's Island. It lay to the westward, but after cruising along the coast, the vessel was unable to find anchorage. Lying low, it was covered with trees, neither cocoa-nuts nor inhabitants were to be found, and it evidently was merely a rendezvous for the hunters and fishers of the neighbouring islands. Wallis therefore decided not to stop. It received the name of Egmont, in honour of Earl Egmont, then chief Lord of the Admiralty. The following days brought new discoveries. Gloucester, Cumberland, William, Henry, and Osnaburgh Islands, were sighted in succession. Lieutenant Furneaux was able to procure provisions without landing at the last named.

Observing several large pirogues on the beach, he drew the conclusion that other and perhaps larger islands would be found at no great distance, where they would probably find abundant provisions, and to which access might be less difficult. His pre-vision was right. As the sun rose upon the 19th, the English sailors were astonished at finding themselves surrounded by pirogues of all sizes, having on board no less than eight hundred natives. After having consulted together at some distance, a few of the natives approached, holding in their hands banana branches. They were on the point of climbing up the vessels, when an absurd accident interrupted these cordial relations.



One of them had climbed into the gangway when a goat ran at him. Turning he perceived the strange animal upon its hind legs preparing to attack him again. Overcome with terror, he jumped back into the sea, an example quickly followed by the others. It recalled the incident of the sheep of Panurge.

Recovering from this alarm, they again climbed into the ship, and brought all their cunning to bear upon petty thefts. However, only one officer had his hat stolen. The vessel all the time was following the coast in search of a fitting harbour, whilst the boats coasted the shore for soundings.

The English had never found a more picturesque and attractive country in any of their voyages. On the shore, the huts of the natives were sheltered by shady woods, in which flourished graceful clusters of cocoanut-trees. Graduated chains of hills, with wooded summits, and the silver sheen of rivers glistening amid the verdure as they found their way to the sea, added to the beauty of the interior.

The boats sent to take soundings were suddenly surrounded at the entrance of a large bay by a crowd of pirogues. Wallis, to avoid a collision, gave the order for the discharge from the swivel gun above the natives' heads, but although the noise terrified them, they still continued their approach.

The captain accordingly ordered his boats to make for the shore, and the natives finding themselves disregarded, threw some sharp stones which wounded a few sailors. But the captains of the boats replied to this attack by a volley of bullets, which injured one of them, and was followed by the flight of the rest.

The Dauphin anchored next day at the mouth of a large river in twenty fathoms of water. The sailors rejoiced universally. The natives immediately surrounded them with pirogues, bringing pigs, fowls, and various fruits, which were quickly exchanged for hardware and nails. One of the boats employed in taking soundings, however, was attacked by blows from paddles and sticks, and the sailors were forced to use their weapons. One native was killed, a second severely wounded, and the rest jumped into the water. Seeing that they were not pursued, and conscious that they themselves had been the aggressors, they returned to traffic with the Dauphin as if nothing had happened. Upon returning on board, the officers reported that the natives had invited them to land, more especially the women, with unequivocal gestures, and that moreover, there was excellent anchorage near the shore within reach of water.

The only inconvenience arose from a considerable swell. The Dauphin accordingly weighed anchor and proceeded into the open sea to run with the wind, when all at once Wallis perceived a bay seven or eight miles distant, which he determined to reach. The captain was soon to experience the truth of the proverb which asserts that one had better leave well alone.

Although soundings were taken by the boats as they advanced, the Dauphin struck on a rock and damaged her forepart. The usual measures in such a case were taken immediately, but outside the chain of madreporic rocks no depth could be sounded. It was consequently impossible to cast anchor, or to use the capstan. What course had best be pursued in this critical situation? The vessel beat violently against the rocks, and a host of pirogues waited in expectation of a shipwreck, eager to clutch their prey. Fortunately at the end of an hour a favourable breeze rising, disengaged the Dauphin, and wafted her into good anchorage. The damage done was not serious, and was as easily repaired as forgotten.

Wallis, rendered prudent by the constant efforts of the natives, divided his men into four parties, one of which was always to be armed. And he ordered guns to be fired. But after one or two rounds the number of pirogues increased, and no longer laden with poultry, they appeared to be filled with stones. The crews of the larger vessels also were augmented.

All at once upon a given signal a storm of pebbles fell upon the ship. Wallis ordered a general discharge, and had two guns loaded with fine shot. The natives, after some slight hesitation and disorder, returned to the attack with great bravery; and the captain, noticing the constantly increasing numbers of the assailants, was not without anxiety as to the result, when an unexpected event put an end to the contest.

Among the pirogues which attacked the Dauphin most energetically, was one which appeared to contain a chief, as from it the signal of attack was given. A well-directed shot cut this double pirogue in two.

This was enough to decide the natives upon retreat. They set about it so precipitately that in less than half an hour not a single boat remained in sight. The vessel was then towed into port, and so placed as to protect the disembarkation. Lieutenant Furneaux landed at the head of a strong detachment of sailors and marines, and planting the English flag, took possession of the island in the name of the King of England, in whose honour it was named George the Third. The natives called it Tahiti.

After prostrating themselves, and offering various marks of repentance, the natives appeared anxious to commence friendly and honest business with the English, but fortunately Wallis, who was detained on board by severe illness, perceived preparations for a simultaneous attack by land and sea upon the men sent to find water. The shorter the struggle the less the loss! Acting upon which principle, directly the natives came within gunshot range, a few discharges dispersed their fleet.

To put a stop to these attempts, it was necessary to make an example. Wallis decided with regret that it was so. He accordingly sent a detachment on shore at once with his carpenters, ordering them to destroy every pirogue which was hauled up on the beach. More than fifty, many of them sixty feet long, were hacked to pieces. Upon this the Tahitians decided to give in. They brought pigs, dogs, stuffs, and fruits to the shore, placed them there, and then withdrew. The English left in exchange hatchets and toys which were carried off to the forest with many delighted gestures.

Peace was established, and from the morrow a regular and abundant traffic commenced, which supplied the ships with the fresh provisions needed by the crews. There was ground for hope that these amicable relations would continue during their stay in the island, now that the natives had once realized the power and effect of the strangers' weapons. Wallis, therefore, ordered a tent to be prepared near the water supply, and disembarked all the sufferers from scurvy, whilst the healthy members of his company were engaged in repairing the rigging, mending the sails, and calking and repainting the vessel, putting her, in short, in a condition fitted for the long journey which was to take her to England.



At this juncture Wallis's illness assumed an alarming character. The first lieutenant was in hardly better health. All the responsibility of the expedition fell upon Furneaux, who was quite equal to the task. After a rest of fifteen days, during which the peace had not been disturbed, Wallis found all his invalids restored to health.

Provisions, however, became less plentiful. The natives, spoilt by the abundance of nails and hatchets, became more exacting.

Upon the 15th of July, a tall woman, apparently some forty-five years of age, of majestic appearance, and who seemed to be much respected by the natives, came on board the Dauphin. Wallis at once perceived by the dignity of her deportment, and the freedom of her manner, peculiar to persons habituated to command, that she was of high station. He presented her with a blue mantle, a looking-glass, and other gewgaws, which she received with an expression of profound contentment. Upon leaving the vessel she invited the captain to land, and to pay her a visit. Wallis, although still very weak, did not fail to comply with this request next day. He was conducted to a large hut, which covered about 327 feet in length, and 42 in width. The roof was constructed of palm leaves and was supported by fifty-three pillars.

A considerable crowd, collected together by the event, lined the approach, and received him respectfully. The visit was enlivened by a comical incident. The surgeon of the vessel, who perspired greatly from the effects of the walk, to relieve himself took off his wig. A sudden exclamation from one of the Indians at this sight, drew general attention to the prodigy, and all fixed their eyes upon it. The whole assemblage remained perfectly still for some moments, in the silence of astonishment, which could not have been greater if they had seen one of our company decapitated.

Next day, a messenger, sent to convey a present to Queen Oberoa, in acknowledgment of her gracious reception, found her giving a feast to several hundred persons.

Her servants carried the dishes to her already prepared, the meat in cocoa-nut shells, and the shell fish in a sort of wooden trough, similar to those used by our butchers. She herself distributed them with her own hands to each of her guests, who were sitting and standing all round the house. When this was over, she seated herself upon a sort of raised dais, and two women beside her gave her her food. They offered the viands to her in their fingers; and she had only to take the trouble to open her mouth.

The consequences of this exchange of civilities were speedily felt. The market was once more fully supplied with provisions, although no longer at the same low price as upon the first arrival of the English.

Lieutenant Furneaux reconnoitred the length of the coast westward, to gain an idea of the island, and to see what it was possible to obtain from it. The English were everywhere well received. They found a pleasant country, densely populated, whose inhabitants appeared in no hurry to sell their commodities. All their working implements were either of stone or of bone, which led Lieutenant Furneaux to infer that the Tahitians possess no metals.

As they had no earthenware vessels, they had no idea that water could be heated. They discovered it one day when the queen dined on board. One of the principal members of her suite, having seen the surgeon pour water from the boiler into the teapot, turned the tap and received the scalding liquor upon his hand. Finding himself burnt, he uttered most frightful screams, and ran round the cabin making most extravagant gestures. His companions, unable to imagine what had happened to him, stared at him with mingled astonishment and fear. The surgeon hastened to interfere, but for a long time the poor Tahitian refused to be comforted.

Some days later, Wallis discovered that his sailors stole nails to give them to the native women. They even went so far as to raise the planks of the ship to obtain screws, nails, bolts, and all the bits of iron which united them to the timbers. Wallis treated the offence rigorously, but nothing availed, and in spite of the precaution he took, of allowing no one to leave the vessel without being searched, these robberies constantly occurred.

An expedition, undertaken into the interior, discovered a large valley watered by a beautiful river. Everywhere the soil was carefully cultivated, and arrangements had been made for watering the gardens and the fruit plantations. Farther penetrations into the interior proved the capacious windings of the river; the valley narrowed, the hills were succeeded by mountains, at every step the way became more difficult. A peak, distant about six miles from the place of landing, was climbed, in the hope of thus discovering the entire island, even to its smallest recesses. But the view was intercepted by yet higher mountains. On the side towards the sea, however, nothing interfered with the magnificent view which stretched before their gaze, everywhere hills, covered with magnificent woods, upon whose verdant slopes the huts of the natives stood out clearly, and in the valleys with their numberless cabins, and gardens surrounded by hedges, the scenes were still more enchanting. The sugar cane, ginger plant, tamarind and tree ferns, with cocoanut-trees, furnished the principal resources of this fertile country.

Wallis, wishing to enrich it still more with the productions of our own climate, caused peach, cherry, and plum stones to be planted, as well as lemon, orange and lime pips, and sowed quantities of vegetable seeds. At the same time he gave the queen a present of a cat about to kitten, of two cocks, fowls, geese, and other domestic animals, which he hoped might breed well.

However, time pressed, and Wallis decided to leave. When he announced his intention to the queen, she threw herself upon a seat and cried for a long time, with so much grief that it was impossible to comfort her. She remained upon the vessel up to the last moment, and as it set sail "embraced us," says Wallis, "in the tenderest way, weeping plenteously, and our friends the Tahitians bade us farewell, with so much sorrow, and in so touching a manner, that I felt heavy-hearted, and my eyes filled with tears." The uncourteous reception of the English, and the repeated attempts made by the natives to seize the vessel, would hardly have led to the idea of a painful separation! However, as the proverb has it, All's well that ends well!

Of Wallis' observations of the manners and customs of the island, we shall only enumerate the few following, as we shall have occasion to return to them again in relating the voyages undertaken by Bougainville and Cook.

Tall, well built, active, slightly dark in complexion, the natives were clothed in a species of white stuff made from the bark of trees. Two pieces of stuff completed their costume, one was square and looked like a blanket. The head was thrust through a hole in the centre, and it recalled the "zarapo" of the Mexicans, and the "poncho" of the South American Indian. The second piece was rolled round the body, without being tightened. Almost all, men and women, tattoo their bodies with black lines close together, representing different figures. The operation was thus performed: the pattern was pricked in the skin, and the holes filled with a sort of paste composed of oil and grease, which left an indelible mark.



Civilization has little advanced. We have already stated that the Tahitians did not understand earthenware vessels. Wallis, therefore, presented the queen with a saucepan, which everybody flocked to inspect with extreme curiosity.

As to religion, the captain found no trace of that! He only noticed that upon entering certain places, which he took to be cemeteries, they maintained a respectful appearance, and wore mourning apparel.

One of the natives, more disposed than his companions to adopt English manners, was presented with a complete suit of clothes, which became him very well. Jonathan—so they had named him, was quite proud of his new outfit. To put the finishing touch to his manners, he desired to learn the use of a fork. But habit was too strong for him! his hands always went to his mouth! and the bit of meat at the end of the fork, found its way to his ear.

It was the 27th of July, when Wallis left the George III. Island. After coasting Duke of York Island, he discovered several islands or islets in succession, upon which he did not touch. For example, Charles Saunders, Lord Howe, Scilly, Boscawen, and Keppel Islands, where the hostile character of the natives, and the difficulty of disembarkation prevented his landing.

Winter was now to begin in the southern region. The vessel leaked in all directions, the stern especially was much strained by the rudder. Was it wise, under such circumstances, to sail for Cape Horn or the Straits of Magellan? Would it not be running the risk of certain shipwreck? Would it not be better to reach Tinian or Batavia, where repairs were possible, and to return to Europe by the Cape of Good Hope?

Wallis decided upon the latter course. He steered for the north-west, and upon the 19th of September, after a voyage which was too fortunate to supply any incidents, he cast anchor in the Tinian harbour.

The incidents which marked Byron's stay in this place were repeated, with far too much regularity. Wallis could not rejoice over its facilities for provisioning, or the temperature of the country, any more than his predecessors. But the sufferers from scurvy recovered in a short time, the sails were mended, and the vessel calked and repaired, and the crew had the unexpected good fortune of catching no fever.

On the 16th October, 1769, the Dauphin returned to sea, but this time, she encountered a succession of frightful storms, which tore the sails, reopened the leakage, broke the rudder, and carried away the poop with all that was to be found on the forecastle.

However, the Bashees were rounded, and Formosa Strait crossed, Sandy Isle, Small Key, Long Island, and New Island were recognized, as also, Condor, Timor, Aros, and Pisang, Pulo-Taya, Pulo-Tote, and Sumatra, before the arrival at Batavia, which took place upon the 30th of November.

We have already had occasion to mention the localities which witnessed the completion of the voyage. It is enough to state that from Batavia, where the crews took the fever, Wallis proceeded by the Cape, thence to St. Helena, and finally arrived in the Downs, on the 20th of May, 1768, after six hundred and thirty-seven days' voyage.

It is to be regretted that Hawkesworth has not reproduced the instructions Wallis received from the Admiralty. Without knowing what they were, we cannot decide whether this brave sailor carried out the orders he had received au pied de la lettre. We have seen that he followed with little variation the route traced by his predecessors, in the Pacific Ocean. In fact, nearly all had approached by the dangerous archipelago, leaving unexplored that portion of Oceania, where islands are most numerous, and where Cook was later to make such important discoveries.

Clever as a navigator, Wallis understood how to obtain from a hasty and incomplete equipment unexpected resources, which enabled him to bring an adventurous enterprise to a successful close. He is equally to be honoured for his humanity and the efforts he made to collect reliable information of the countries he visited. Had he only been accompanied by special men of science, there is no doubt that their scientific harvest would have been abundant.

The fault lay with the Admiralty.

We have related how, on the 10th of April, 1767, as the Dauphin and the Swallow entered the Pacific, the former, carried away by a strong breeze, had lost sight of the latter, and had been unable to follow her. This separation was most unfortunate for Captain Carteret. He knew better than any of his crew the dilapidated condition of his vessel and the insufficiency of his provisions. In short, he was well aware that he could only hope to meet the Dauphin in England, as no plan of operation had been arranged, and no rendezvous had been named—a grave omission on Wallis' part, who was aware of the condition of his consort.

Nevertheless, Carteret allowed none of his apprehensions to come to the knowledge of the crew. At first the detestable weather experienced by the Swallow upon the Pacific Ocean (most misleading name), allowed no time for reflection. The dangers of the passing moment, in which there was every prospect of their being engulfed, hid from them the perils of the future.

Carteret steered for the north, by the coast of Chili. Upon investigating the quantity of soft water which he had on board, he found it quite insufficient for the voyage he had undertaken. He determined therefore, before setting sail for the west, to take in water at Juan Fernandez, or at Mas-a-Fuero.

The weather continued wretched. Upon the evening of the 27th a sudden squall was followed by a rising wind, which carried the vessel straight to the Cape. The violence of the storm failed to carry away the masts or to founder the ship. The tempest continued in all its fury, and the sails being extremely wet, clung round the masts and rigging so closely, that it was impossible to work them. Next day a sudden wave broke the mizen-mast, just where there was a flaw in the sail, and submerged the vessels for a few moments. The storm only abated sufficiently to allow the crew of the Swallow time to recover a little, and to repair the worst damage; then recommenced, and continued with violent squalls until the 7th of May. The wind then became favourable, and three days later Juan Fernandez was reached.

Carteret was not aware that the Spaniards had fortified this island. He was, therefore, extremely surprised at seeing a large number of men upon the shore, and at perceiving a battery of four pieces on the beach, and a fort, pierced with twenty embrasures and surmounted by the Spanish flag, upon a hill.

The rising wind prevented an entrance into Cumberland Bay, and after cruising about for an entire day, Carteret was obliged to content himself with reaching Mas-a-Fuero. But he met the same obstacles, and the surge which broke upon the shore interfered with his operations, and it was only with the utmost difficulty that he succeeded in shipping a few casks of water. Some of the crew, who had been forced by the state of the sea to remain on land, killed guinea fowls enough to feed the entire crew. These, with the exception of some seals and plenty of fish, were the sole result of a stay, marked by a succession of squalls and storms, which constantly placed the ship in danger.

Carteret, who, owing to unfavourable winds, had had several opportunities of noticing Mas-a-Fuero, corrected many of the errors in the account of Lord Anson's voyage, and furnished many details of inestimable use to navigators.

On leaving Mas-a-Fuero, Carteret steered northward in the hope of meeting the south-eastern trade wind. Carried farther than he had counted upon, he determined to seek St. Ambrose, and St. Felix Island, or the island of St. Paul. Now that the Spaniards had taken possession of and fortified Juan Fernandez, those islands might be of great value to the English in the event of war.

But Mr. Green's charts and the "Elements of Navigation" by Robertson did not tally as to their situation. Carteret, having most confidence in the latter work, sought for them in the north, and failed to find them. In re-reading the description given by Waser, Davis' surgeon, he thought these two islands were identical with the land met with by that filibuster, in his route to the south of the Galapagos Islands, and that Davis' Land did not exist. This caused a double error, that of identifying St. Felix Island with Davis' Land, and of denying the existence of the latter, which is in reality Easter Island.

"At this parallel," says Carteret, that is in 18 degrees west from his point of departure, "we had fresh breezes, and a strong northerly current, and other reasons for conjecturing that we were near Davis' Land, which we were seeking so carefully. But a stiff breeze rising again, we steered quarter S.W. and reached 28-1/2 degrees southern latitude, from which it follows that if this land or anything answering to it exists, I must infallibly have fallen in with it, or at least have seen it. I afterwards remained in 28 degrees south latitude, and 40 degrees west of my point of departure, and as far as I can conjecture 121 degrees west London."

All the navigators combined in insisting upon the existence of a southern continent. Carteret could not conceive that Davis' Land was but a small island, a spot lost in the immensity of the ocean. As he found no continent, he decided upon the non-existence of Davis' Land. It was precisely in this way that he was misled.

Carteret continued his search until the 7th of June. He was in 28 degrees south latitude and 112 degrees west longitude, that is to say, he was in the immediate neighbourhood of Easter Island. It was still the depth of winter. The sea ran continually high, violent and variable winds, dull, foggy, and cold weather was accompanied by thunder, rain, and snow. No doubt it was owing to the great darkness, and to the thick fog, which hid the sun for several days, that Carteret failed to perceive Easter Island, for many signs, such as the number of birds, floating seaweeds, &c., announced the neighbourhood of land.

These atmospheric troubles again retarded the voyage, in addition to which the Swallow was as bad a sailer as possible, and one may guess at the weariness, the preoccupation, even the mental suffering of the captain, who saw his crew on the point of starvation. But in spite of all, the voyage was continued by day and night in a westerly direction until the 2nd of July. Upon this day land was discovered to the north, and on the morrow, Carteret was sufficiently close to recognize it. It was only a great rock five miles in circumference, covered with trees, which appeared uninhabited, but the swell, so prevalent at this time of year, prevented the vessel coming alongside. It was named Pitcairn, after the first discoverer. In these latitudes, the sailors, previously in good health, felt the first attacks of scurvy.

Upon the 11th, a new land was seen in 22 degrees southern latitude, and 145 degrees 34 minutes longitude. It received the name of Osnaburgh in honour of the king's second son.

Next day Carteret sent an expedition to two more islands, where neither eatables nor water were found. The sailors caught many birds in their hands, as they were so tame that they did not fly at the approach of man.

All these islands belonged to the Dangerous group, a long chain of low islands, clusters of which were the despair of all navigators, for the few resources they offered. Carteret thought he recognized Quiros in the land discovered, but this place, which is called by the natives Tahiti, is situated more to the north.

Sickness, however, increased daily. The adverse winds, but especially the damage the ship had sustained, made her progress very slow. Carteret thought it necessary to follow the route upon which he was most likely to obtain provisions and the needful repairs.

"My intention in the event of my ship being repaired," says Carteret, "was to continue my voyage to the south upon the return of a favourable season, with a view to new discoveries in that quarter of the world. In fact, I had settled in my own mind, if I could find a continent where sufficient provisions were procurable, to remain near its coast until the sun had passed the Equator, then to gain a distant southern latitude and to proceed westward towards the Cape of Good Hope, and to return eastward after touching at the Falkland Islands, should it be necessary, and thence to proceed quickly to Europe."

These laudable intentions show Carteret to have been a true explorer, rather stimulated than intimidated by danger, but it proved impossible to carry them into execution.

The trade wind was only met on the 16th, and the weather remained detestable. Above all, although Carteret navigated in the neighbourhood of Danger Island, discovered in 1765 by Byron, and by others, he saw no land.

"We probably were close by land," he says, "which the fog prevented our seeing, for in these waters numbers of birds constantly flew round the ship. Commodore Byron in his last voyage had passed the northern limits of this portion of the ocean, in which the Solomon Islands are said to be situated, and as I have been myself beyond the southern limit without seeing them, I have good reasons for thinking, that if these islands exist they have been badly marked on all the charts."

This last supposition is correct, but the Solomon Islands do exist, and Carteret stopped there a few days later without recognizing them. The victuals were now all but consumed or tainted, the rigging and the sails torn by the tempest, half the crew on the sick list, when a fresh alarm for the captain arose. A leak was reported, just below the load water-line; it was impossible to stop it, as long as they were in the open sea. By unexpected good fortune land was seen on the morrow. Needless to say what cries of delight, what acclamations followed this discovery. To use Carteret's own comparison, the feelings of surprise and comfort experienced by the crew can only be likened to those of a criminal, who at the last moment on the scaffold receives a reprieve! It was Nitendit Island, already discovered by Mendana.

No sooner was the anchor cast than landing was hurried, in search of water supply. The natives were black, with woolly hair, and perfectly naked. They appeared upon the shore, but fled again before the boat could come up with them.

The leader of the landing-party described the country as wild, bristling with mountains and impenetrable forests of trees and shrubs reaching to the shore itself, through which ran a fine current of fresh water.

The following day, the master was sent in search of an easier landing-place, with orders to propitiate the natives, if possible, by presents. He was expressly enjoined not to expose himself to danger, to return if several pirogues advanced against him, not to leave the boat himself, and not to allow more than two men to land at once, whilst the remainder held themselves on the defensive.

Carteret, at the same time, sent his ship's boat on shore for water. Some natives attacked it with arrows, which fortunately hit no one.

Meantime, the sloop regained the Swallow, the master had three arrows in his body, and half his crew were so dangerously wounded that three sailors and he himself died a few days later.

This is what had happened. Landing the fifth in succession, in a spot where he had noticed huts, he entered into friendly traffic with the natives. The latter soon increased in numbers, and several large pirogues advanced towards his sloop, and he was unable to rejoin it until the very moment when the attack commenced. Pursued by the arrows of the natives, who waded up to their shoulders into the water, chased by pirogues, he only succeeded in escaping after having killed several natives and foundered one of their boats.



This effort to find a more favourable spot where he might run the Swallow ashore, having ended so unfortunately, Carteret heaved his ship down where he was, and efforts were made to stop the leak. If the carpenter, the only healthy man on board, did not succeed in perfectly stopping it, he at least considerably diminished it.

Whilst a fresh landing for water was sought, the fire of the guns was directed upon the woods as well as volleys of musketry from the sloop. Still the sailors worked for a quarter of an hour, when they were attacked by a shower of arrows which grievously wounded one or two in the breast. The same measures were necessary each time they fetched water.

At this juncture, thirty of the crew became incapable of performing their duty. The master died of his wounds. Lieutenant Gower was very ill. Carteret himself, attacked by a bilious and inflammatory illness, was forced to keep his bed.

These three were the only officers capable of navigating the Swallow to England, and they were on the point of succumbing.

To stay the ravages of disease, it was necessary to procure provisions at all costs, and this was utterly impossible in this spot. Carteret weighed anchor on the 17th of August, after calling the island Egmont, in honour of the Lord of the Admiralty, and the bay where he had anchored, Swallow. Although convinced that it was identical with the land named Santa Cruz by the Spaniards, the navigator nevertheless followed the prevailing mania of giving new appellations to all the places he visited. He then coasted the shore for a short distance, and ascertained that the population was large. He had many a crow to pick with the natives. These obstacles, and moreover the impossibility of procuring provisions, prevented Carteret's reconnoitring the other islands of this group, upon which he bestowed the name of Queen Charlotte.



"The inhabitants of Egmont Isle," he says, "are extremely agile, active, and vigorous. They appear to live as well in water as on land, for they are continually jumping from their pirogues into the sea. One of the arrows which they sent passed through the planks of the boat, and dangerously wounded the officer at the poop in the thigh.

"Their arrows are tipped with stone, and we saw no metal of any kind in their possession. The country in general is covered with woods and mountains and interspersed with a great number of valleys."

On the 18th of August, 1767, Carteret left this group with the intention of regaining Great Britain. He fully expected to meet with an island on his passage, where he might be more fortunate. And on the 20th, he actually did so, discovering a little low island, which he named Gower, where cocoa-nuts were procurable. Next day he encountered Simpson and Carteret Islands, and a group of new islands which he took to be the Ohang Java, discovered by Tasman; then successively Sir Charles Hardy and Winchelsea Islands, which he did not consider as belonging to the Solomon Archipelago, the Island of St. John, so-called by Schouten, and finally that of New Britain, which he gained on the 28th of August.

Carteret coasted this island, in search of a safe and convenient port, and stopped in various bays, where he obtained water, wood, cocoa, nutmegs, aloes, sugar-canes, bamboos, and palm-cabbages.

"This cabbage," he says, "is white, crisp, of a substance filled with sugar. Eaten raw, the flavour resembles that of a chestnut, and boiled it is superior to the best parsnip. We cut it into small strips, and boiled it in the broth made from our cakes, and this broth, afterwards thickened with oatmeal furnished us with a good meal."

The wood was all alive with pigeons, turtle-doves, parroquets, and other unknown birds. The English visited several deserted huts.

If an idea of the civilization of a people can be drawn from their dwellings, these islanders were on the lowest rung of the social ladder, for their huts were the most miserable Carteret had ever seen.

The commander profited by his stay in this place, by once more overhauling the Swallow, and attending to the leak, which the carpenters doctored as well as they could. The sheathing was greatly worn, and the keel quite gnawed away by worms; they coated it with pitch and warm tar mixed together.

On the 7th of September, Carteret accomplished the ridiculous ceremony of taking possession of the country in the name of George III., he then despatched one of his boats upon a reconnoitring expedition, which returned with a quantity of cocoa and palm-cabbages, most precious provision for the sick on board.

In spite of the fact that the monsoon would soon blow from the east for a long time, Carteret, alive to the dilapidated condition of his ship, determined to start for Batavia, where he hoped to make up his crew, and to repair the Swallow.

Upon the 9th September, therefore, he left Carteret harbour, the best which he had met with since leaving the Straits of Magellan.

He soon penetrated to a gulf to which Dampier had given the name of St. George Bay, and was not long in reconnoitring for a strait which separated New Britain and New Ireland. This passage he found and named St. George. He describes it in his narrative with a care which should certainly have earned for him the thanks of all his contemporary navigators. He then followed the coast of New Ireland to its southern extremity. Near a little island, which he named Sandwich, Carteret had some dealings with the natives.

"These natives," he says "are black, and have woolly hair like negroes, but they have not flat noses or large lips. We imagine them to be of the same race as the inhabitants of Egmont Island. Like them they are entirely naked, if we except some ornaments of shells which they attach to their arms and legs. At the same time, they have adopted a fashion, without which our fashionable men and women are not supposed to be perfectly dressed. They powder their hair or rather the wool on their heads white, from which it follows that the fashion of wearing powder is probably of greater antiquity and of more extended fashion than we would have generally supposed. They are armed with spears and large sticks in the shape of clubs, but we perceived neither bows nor arrows."

At the south-western extremity of New Ireland Carteret found another land, to which he gave the name of New Hanover, and shortly afterwards the group of the Duke of Portland.

Although all this portion of the narrative of his voyage, in countries unknown before his time, abounds in precious details, Carteret, a far more able and zealous navigator than his predecessors Byron and Wallis, makes excuses for not having collected more facts.

"The description of the country," he says, "and of its productions and inhabitants, would have been far more complete and detailed had I not been so weakened and overcome by the illness to which I had succumbed through the duties which devolved upon me from want of officers. When I could scarcely drag myself along, I was obliged to take watch after watch and to share in other labours with my lieutenant, who was also in a bad state of health."

After leaving St. George's Strait, the route was westward. Carteret discovered several other islands, but illness for several days prevented his coming on deck, and therefore he could not determine their position. He named them Admiralty Islands, and after two attacks, found himself forced to employ fire-arms to repulse the natives.

He afterwards reconnoitred Durour and Matty Islands and the Cuedes, whose inhabitants were quite delighted at receiving bits of an iron hoop. Carteret affirms, that he might have bought all the productions of this country for a few iron instruments. Although they are the neighbours of New Guinea, and of the groups they had just explored, these natives were not black, but copper coloured. They had very long black hair, regular features, and brilliantly white teeth. Of medium height, strong and active, they were cheerful and friendly, and came on board fearlessly. One of them even asked permission to accompany Carteret upon his voyage, and in spite of all the representations of his countrymen and even of the captain, he refused to leave the Swallow. Carteret, meeting with so decided a will, consented, but the poor Indian, who had received the name of Joseph Freewill, soon faded away and died at Celebes.

On the 29th October, the English reached the north-eastern portion of Mindanao. Always on the look-out for fresh water and provisions, Carteret in vain looked for the bay which Dampier had spoken of as abounding in game. A little farther off he found a watering-place, but the hostile demonstrations of the inhabitants forced him to re-embark.

After leaving Mindanao, the captain sailed for the Straits of Macassar, between the islands of Borneo and Celebes. They entered it on the 14th of November. The vessel then proceeded with so much difficulty that she only accomplished twenty-eight leagues in fifteen days.

"Ill," he says, "weakened, dying, tortured by the sight of lands which we could not reach, exposed to tempests which we found it impossible to overcome, we were attacked by a pirate!"

The latter, hoping to find the English crew asleep, attacked the Swallow in the middle of the night. But far from allowing themselves to be cowed by this new danger, the sailors defended themselves with so much courage and skill, that they succeeded in foundering the Malay prah.



On the 12th of December Carteret sorrowfully perceived that the western monsoon had commenced. The Swallow was in no condition to struggle against this wind and current to reach Batavia by the west. He must then content himself with gaining Macassar, then the principal colony of the Dutch in the Celebes Islands.

When the English arrived, it was thirty-five weeks since they left the Straits of Magellan.

Anchor was scarcely cast, when a Dutchman, sent by the governor, came on board the Swallow. He appeared much alarmed on finding that the vessel belonged to the English marine service. In the morning, therefore, when Carteret sent his lieutenant, Mr. Gower, to ask for access to the port in order to secure provisions for his dying crew, and to repair his dilapidated ship, and await the return of the monsoon, not only could he not obtain permission to land, but the Dutch hastened to collect their forces and arm their vessels. Finally, after five hours, the governor's reply was brought on board. It was a refusal couched in terms as little polite as they were equivocal. The English were simultaneously forbidden to land at any port under Dutch government.

All Carteret's representations, his remarks upon the inhumanity of the refusal, even his hostile demonstrations, had no other result than the sale of a few provisions, and permission to proceed to a small neighbouring bay.

He would find there, he was told, certain shelter from the monsoon, and might set up a hospital for his sick, that indeed he could procure more plentiful provisions there than in Macassar, from whence they would send him all that he could need. Fearing death by starvation and foundering, it was necessary to overlook these exactions, and Carteret proceeded to the roadstead of Bonthain.

There the sick, installed in a house, found themselves prohibited from going more than thirty roods from their hospital.

They were kept under guard, and could not communicate with the natives. Lastly they were forbidden to buy anything excepting through the agency of the Dutch soldiers, who strangely abused their power, often making more than a thousand per cent. profit. All the complaints of the English were useless. They were forced to submit during their stay, to a surveillance to the last degree humiliating. It was only on the 22nd of May, 1768, on the return of the monsoon, that Captain Carteret was able to leave Bonthain, after a long series of annoyances, vexations, and alarms, which it is impossible to give in detail and which had sorely tried his patience.

"Celebes," he says, "is the key to the Moluccas, or Spice Islands, which are necessarily under the power of the people who are masters of this island. The town of Macassar is built upon a promontory, and is watered by one or two rivers which cross it or flow in its vicinity. The ground is even and beautiful in appearance. There are many plantations and cocoa-nut woods, interspersed with houses, which convey the idea that it is well populated.

"At Bonthain the beef is excellent, but it is difficult to procure enough of it to feed a fleet. Fowls, and as much rice and fruits as can be wished, are procurable. The woods abound with wild pigs, which are to be had cheap, because the natives, being Mohamedans, do not eat them."

These details, however incomplete, had great interest at the time they were collected, and we go so far as to believe, that even now, some hundred years since they were first written, they yet contain a certain amount of truth. No incident marked the voyage to Batavia. After several delays, caused by the desire of the Dutch Company to make Carteret give them a testimonial as to the treatment he had met with from the government of Macassar, and which he steadily refused, Carteret at last obtained permission to repair his vessel.

On the 15th of September, the Swallow, partially refitted, set sail. She was reinforced with a supplementary number of English sailors, without which it would have been impossible to regain Europe. Eighty of her original crew were dead, and eighty more were so reduced that seven of their number died before they reached the Cape.

After a stay in this port, a most salutary one for the crew, which lasted until the 6th of January, 1769, Carteret set out once more, and a little beyond Ascension Island, at which he had touched, he met a French vessel. It was the frigate, La Boudeuse, with which Bougainville had just been round the world.

On the 20th of March the Swallow anchored in Spithead roadstead, after thirty-one months of a voyage as painful as it had been dangerous.

All Carteret's nautical ability, all his sang-froid, all his enthusiasm were needed to save so inefficient a vessel from destruction, and to make important discoveries, under such conditions. If the perils of the voyage, add lustre to his renown, the shame of such a miserable equipment falls upon the English Admiralty, who, despising the representations of an able captain, risked his life and the lives of his crew upon so long a voyage.



III.

Bougainville—A notary's son metamorphosed—Colonization of the Malouine Islands—Buenos Ayres and Rio Janeiro—The Malouines relinquished to the Spaniards—Hydrography of the Strait of Magellan— The Pecherais—The Quatre Facardius—Tahiti—Incidents of the stay there—Productions of the country and manners of the inhabitants— Samoa Islands—The Land of the Holy Spirit or the New Hebrides—The Louisiade—The Anchorite Isles—New Guinea—Boutan—From Batavia to St. Malo.

Whilst Wallis completed his voyage round the world, and Carteret continued his long and hazardous circumnavigation, a fresh expedition was organized for the purpose of prosecuting new discoveries in the Southern Seas.

Under the old regime, when all was arbitrary, titles, rank, and places were obtained by interest. It was therefore not surprising that a military officer, who left the army scarcely four years before with the rank of colonel, to enter the navy as a captain, should obtain this important command.

Strangely enough, this singular measure was amply justified, thanks to the talents possessed by the favoured recipient.

Louis Antoine de Bougainville was born at Paris, on the 13th of November, 1729. The son of a notary, he was destined for the bar, and was already an advocate. But having no taste for his father's profession, he devoted himself to the sciences, and published a Treatise on the Integral Calculus, whilst he obtained a commission in the Black Musqueteers.

Of the three careers he thus entered upon, he entirely abandoned the two first, slightly neglected the third, for the sake of a fourth—diplomacy, and finally left it entirely for a fifth—the naval service. He was destined to die a member of the senate after a sixth metamorphosis.



First aide-de-camp to Chevret, then Secretary of the Embassy in London, where he was made a member of the Royal Society, he left Brest in 1756, with the rank of captain of Dragoons, to rejoin Montcalm in Canada. Becoming aide-de-camp to this general, he distinguished himself on various occasions, and obtained the confidence of his chief, who sent him to France to ask for reinforcements.

That unhappy country was just then overwhelmed with reverses in Europe, and had need of all her resources. Therefore, when young Bougainville entered upon the object of his mission to M. de Choiseul, the minister answered brusquely,—

"When the house is on fire, one does not worry oneself about the stables!"

"At least," replied Bougainville, "no one can say that you speak like a horse!"

This sally was too witty and too stinging to conciliate the minister. Ultimately Madame de Pompadour, who appreciated witty people, introduced Bougainville to the king, and although he did not succeed in obtaining much for his general, he gained a colonelcy, and the order of St. Louis for himself, although he had only seen seven years' service. Returning to Canada he was anxious to justify Louis XIV.'s confidence, and distinguished himself in various matters. After the loss of the colony he served in Germany under M. de Choiseul-Stainville.

His military career was cut short by the peace of 1763. His active spirit and love of movement rebelled against a garrison life. He conceived the strange idea of colonizing the Falkland Islands in the extreme south of South America, and of conveying there free of expense the emigrants from Canada who had settled in France to escape the tyrannous yoke of England. Carried away by this idea, he addressed himself to certain privateers at St. Malo, who, from the commencement of the century, had been in the habit of visiting the group, and who had named them Malouine Islands.

Having gained their confidence, Bougainville brought the advantages (however problematical) of this colony to the minister's notice, maintaining that the fortunate situation of the island, would secure a good resting-place for ships going to the Southern Seas. Having high interest, he obtained the authority he desired, and received his nomination as ship-captain.

It was the year 1763. There is little reason to suppose, that marine officers, who had passed all the grades of the service, looked with gratification upon an appointment which no past event justified. But that mattered little to the Minister of Marine, M. de Choiseul-Stainville. Bougainville had served under him, and was far too grand a personage to trouble himself about the grumbling of the ship's officers.

Bougainville having brought his uncle and cousin, MM. de Nerville and d'Arboulin, to look favourably upon his venture, caused the Eagle of twenty guns, and the Sphinx of twelve, to be built at St. Malo, under the auspices of M. Guzot Duclos. Upon these he embarked several Canadian families.

Leaving St. Malo on the 15th of September, 1763, he rested at St. Catherine's Island, on the coast of Brazil, and at Montevideo, where he took horses and cattle, and landed at the Malouines in a large bay, which appeared to him wholly suited to his purpose, but he was not long in discovering that what had been taken by preceding navigators for woods of moderate height, were only reeds. Not a tree, not a shrub grew in the islands. Fortunately an excellent turf did for fuel in their stead, whilst fish and game offered good resources.

The colony consisted at first of only twenty-nine persons, for whom huts were built and also a provision warehouse. At the same time a fort, capable of holding fourteen guns, was planned and commenced. M. de Nerville agreed to remain at the head of the establishment, whilst Bougainville returned to France on the 5th of April. There he recruited some more colonists, and took a considerable cargo of provisions of every kind, which he disembarked on the 5th of January, 1765. He then went to the Strait of Magellan in search of a cargo of wood, and having, as we have already narrated, met Commodore Byron's squadron, followed it to Port Famine.